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But before he moved his things into her home, he had to tell her the truth.
* * *
MARIE CLIMBED THE flight of stairs up to Elliott’s apartment with anticipation. She’d never been there before. Hard to believe, considering that she was married to him. But her work, her family, her life, were at the Arapahoe. He’d become a part of that life.
Which made it easy to forget that he’d had an entire life separate from her such a short time before she’d so impetuously and rashly married him. Elliott was a man used to being his own boss.
Answering to no one.
Used to dealing with women—alone—and sometimes in dangerous situations. Guarding them, even.
If she was still worried about what might have or have not been said or done at his meeting with Gwen Menard—apart from the obvious Liam information that she’d passed along—how was she ever going to deal with the rest of what she didn’t, and sometimes couldn’t, know?
“Funny how all this time, you’ve only lived a few miles away...” she said to him. “You’ve been here in town what, four years?”
He’d told her once, back when they were chat mates in her coffee shop. “In this apartment, yes.”
The glance he gave her was swift. Minus a smile. He’d been searching for the key on his ring. And yet...for the first time since she’d known Elliott Tanner, Marie knew a moment of fear. Real fear. Not imagined.
Not of him. At all. But of...something.
The intuition her father had spoken about?
“I warned you, I’ve only done a little packing up,” he was saying as he pushed open the door. He’d slipped over a couple of times during the past week. In preparation for this Sunday move. Boxes were stacked along one wall. Packing paper and tape were there, too.
And Liam and Gabi, along with a small rented moving van, were on call for later that afternoon. The hope was that by evening Elliott would be able to turn over his keys and permanently vacate the apartment.
In Marie’s mind, that would be when their marriage would really begin. When the only home either of them had was the one they shared.
“You don’t even have your computer unhooked.” She blurted the first thing that came to mind. Pushing aside uncomfortable feelings—a surge of them from the strange look she was pretty sure she’d seen on Elliott’s face just before they’d come in the door—she focused on the task at hand. Getting the man she loved moved out of his old place and into his new one. With her.
“I hate dealing with the cords,” he said. “Besides, with my laptop at your place, I wanted something hooked up here in case something urgent came up while I was here this week.”
He was never without multiple forms of access to information. She knew that about him. He smiled at her. Kind of sheepishly. “I’m sorry I left so much undone,” he said.
Maybe that was why he’d looked strange just before entering the door. He’d been feeling guilty about how much work there was ahead of them.
Shaking her head, Marie chuckled. And let the insidious doubts that plagued her slide away. “I expected to work hard today,” she said. “We talked about going through things together to decide what to keep and what to donate. Or—” she walked over to peek into his bedroom “—we could check out the mattress first and see if we want to put it in the spare bedroom, or switch it with the one in ours.”
His was bigger. And Marie liked the idea of going to bed every night in her apartment on the mattress Elliott had occupied before he’d met her. Melding their lives until the two became one.
* * *
EVERYTHING THAT COULD fit in a box was packed and stacked along the appropriate wall. The far end of the living area was for the things that were going to charity. The bigger pile, closer to the door, would soon be going on a truck bound for the Arapahoe. They had the truck already.
And were just waiting for a member of the Arapahoe security detail to drive Liam and Gabrielle over to help them.
His time was up. He’d told himself he’d tell her before he moved out of his apartment into hers. He’d been putting off the inevitable ever since.
All afternoon, as they’d packed box after box, he kept telling himself he still had time.
In less than half an hour Liam and Gabrielle would be joining them. The moving out would begin.
He had no more time.
Marie looked exhausted, but exhilarated, too, as she surveyed the less than nine hundred square feet of space that had been home to Elliott for four years—and to them for the past six hours—as though she couldn’t wait to get home and officially settled in to their new life.
For a second there he talked himself into not saying anything. T
